


Writing

by orphan_account



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Multi, Nonbinary Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:38:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They really want to write another poem - one that will make Maka happy, because she's so much prettier when she smiles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Writing

**Author's Note:**

> this is so super self-indulgent man  
> also my first work here, so judge this all you'd like  
> I personally like to think of Chrona/Crona as genderless, so I use they/them, but whatevs

They very, very much wanted to write another poem - one that would make Maka smile, just a bit, because she was so much prettier when she did so. 

The problem was, that implied the poem itself was happy, the kind of poem that made pretty girls even prettier with their pretty lines and pretty rhymes. They weren't quite sure if they could write happy poetry - Make said something about how it was easier to write about the things you knew. 

That's probably why they wrote the first poem they way they did. 

You can't exactly write about happiness if you've only felt it once in your life. 

Sorrow was much, much easier to write about - even though they had only recently come to the conclusion that it was indeed sorrow that they always felt. They didn't have much else to compare it to. 

Emotions were such fickle things. 

They took a deep, shaky breath, and started to twirl their lavenderish pink hair around their finger, staring down at the blank page as if expecting it to write itself. Maybe they should write about Soul? They knew about Soul - even though he looked quite scary, he was like everyone’s older brother, in a way. And he certainly made Maka happy, despite all their arguing. Apparently, they argued like an old married couple, but Chrona wasn't aware that old married couples argued so much. 

Another shaky, unsure breath, and now they were tugging at the thin, uneven strands of oddly colored hair. 

There was a soft knock at the door, and that was all the lavenderette needed to know it was Maka. She was the only one who ever knocked before entering. 

“Are you writing?” She always asked things in such a quiet, gentle way - like she was handling fragile glass. Chrona really wished she wouldn't do that. They were already too broken to break again by such little things like questions. 

“Yes.” Pause. “No.” Pause. “I'm trying.” Pause. There were so many pauses in their speech, because their brain said things a mile a minute, but their voice was so shy and selective about what made it out of their mouth. 

“Is it a poem?” Again, with the soft, gentle talk. They wanted her to stop, but they couldn't say so. Their throat wouldn't let them. 

“Yes. A happy one.” One about Soul, one that will make you smile, so maybe you might think of me in that way and not him - but they didn't say any of those things. 

They wished their brain would stop. It was being terribly distracting. 

“Oh? May I see?” She waited for a response, not wanting to look at it unless they wanted her to. They were still unsure as to why she waited for their opinion on everything - maybe she felt like they didn't get to make enough decisions on their own, but personally they felt like choosing when to eat was quite enough. 

“I haven't written anything yet.” They paused, again, waiting for their mouth to catch up to their mind, “I was going to write about Soul.” The blonde giggled a little at that, and that was enough to make Chrona want to finish writing. They paused again, and simply decided to get the reason of the poem out of the way. 

“I love you, Maka.”

A pause, but this one was from both of the teens. Maka’s bright green eyes were wide open, and she blinked a couple of times, moving her mouth as she formed a response. 

“Chro-”

“I know you like Soul.” I wish you didn't, but you do, and that's that, even though - please be quiet. “I just thought you should know.” Maka stayed silent for a while, then sighed a bit. 

“Chrona, I-”

“Please come back later.” It was very rude of them, to cut her off so many times, but if they thought about anything else anymore they wouldn't be able to take it any longer. 

She left, and the gentle closing of the door signified her disappearance. 

And then they cried about nothing in particular for a couple hours, even though they felt somewhat relieved. Not the ugly kind of crying, where you're genuinely sad and you hiccup and sniffle about how horrible it feels, but instead the kind of crying that follows when a sorrowful- but reasonable - worry turns out to be true. 

It took a special kind of broken to be relieved when another piece was taken away. 

What a horrible person they thought themself to be, thinking they could find happiness in anything.


End file.
